


Red, White, and Bucky

by thebrightestbird



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 01:49:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4687862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebrightestbird/pseuds/thebrightestbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz is witness to the longest-running friends-to-lovers scenario in all of history. </p><p>In other words, Fitz helps Bucky declare his love for Steve by making the Bucky!Cap costume.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red, White, and Bucky

**Author's Note:**

> Civil War doesn't happen and the Avengers are one big happy family.

Despite the multiple advanced degrees Leo Fitz holds, at the most basic, he prefers to be known as an engineer. But as Coulson once pointed out, the flashiest title he possesses and the one he likes to shove in people’s faces when he’s feeling particularly stepped upon or taken for granted is _actual freaking rocket scientist_.

However, those times are rare. Deep down in his heart, Fitz is but a humble engineer who happens to have a few extra tools in his belt.

Lately, the work requirements for being a humble engineer have taken unexpected dimensions. While working for S.H.I.E.L.D., he’s called upon to build all manner of defensive and offensive equipment. He’s also responsible for designing special uniforms for personnel who could use more than the standard tac vests and helmets.

Then one day Coulson himself hands him instructions for a very special uniform. Much of the specs are your basic combat gear but with an emphasis on the lightest materials possible. To quote the directive, “The wearer will need to move fluidly and without added weight due to his primary skill: He has wings and can fly.”

Okay, could he be making a uniform for a person with _actual_ wings? Is he an Inhuman of some sort?

As he continues to read the directive, his hopes for seeing a person with real wings are dashed. But he quickly perks up upon reading about the person’s mechanical wings. Maybe he was being assigned to build a new set of wings for the person. Fitz’s head starts swimming with all of the possibilities. Possibilities involving lasers.

But his hopes are dashed once again as he reads on. “A new prototype for the wings is already in development by Mr. Tony Stark, who has called ‘dibs.’ ”

Design requests by the wearer include “throwing some dark red in it for fierce style” and “maybe an open V front to show off my killer pecs.”

The file comes with a picture of the wearer, Mr. Sam Wilson, and he does indeed appear to have a fine chest. Fitz toys with a design that is exactly as requested, but he can’t figure out a way around how stupidly unsafe it would be. Also, hilarious. The design is ridiculous.

After he finishes the Falcon suit, Fitz goes to Coulson’s office to inform him. Coulson immediately hits one solitary button on his phone, says, “It’s done,” and ends the call.

“Mr. Wilson will be here within an hour,” Coulson says.

“Flying in with his laserless wings, sir?” Fitz asks.

Coulson takes a not-so-subtle calming breath. “Yes.”

-|-|-

In summary, Fitz designs superhero costumes now. Being escorted around the headquarters of the Avengers only reinforces this notion. It seems that Sam was pleased with his uniform and heartily recommended Fitz to design another Avenger’s uniform. Fitz wasn’t given any details on the latest member of the team, however.

As he walks by the hangar with the new helicarrier, he sees a purple android of some sort. With the turn his career has taken, Fitz wonders if he had missed his calling in comic books. But as the saying goes, real life is stranger than fiction.

“Nice cape,” Fitz tells the android (synthoid? Fitz’ll have to ask later) as he and his guide pass.

“Your compliment is appreciated,” a crisp English accent responds, and now Fitz is _definitely_ going to be back with questions later.

-|-|-

After stopping by his room to drop off his bags, Fitz finally reaches the laboratory wing. Despite the large staff fighting for any available surface in the bustling department, he gets a quiet, fully stocked room all to himself for as long as he needs. From design to delivery, the suit, no matter how special, isn’t likely to take more than a week since he has every resource and material imaginable at his immediate disposal. The room has Tony Stark money written all over it.

It also has Tony Stark the man _in it_.

“Leopold, it’s been a long time,” Tony says from atop one of the work benches. He’s looking at a holographic screen drawing schematics for what appears to be an arm.

“It was two weeks ago when you came with Sam to get his uniform.”

“That was two weeks too long to be without your dulcet Scottish lilt and sexy brain.”

Fitz tries not to blush. He fails. “Well, uh, um, if you --,” he starts to stammer. “Wait, no … If _my_ brain really excites you so much, why am I stuck being the tailor for the costumes while you get ‘dibs’ on the mechanical bits?”

“Because I’m paying for all of this?” Tony looks around the room for someone to affirm this. As Fitz is the only other person in the room, he’s just being a jackass. “But seriously, Leopold, I am a simple man with simple desires. Chiefly, I like to make cool shit with my money.”

Fitz can’t fault him for that.

“Besides, your bossman has a lot of atoning to do,” Tony says. “You’re lucky I’m even letting you in on the superhero shenanigans.”

Ahhh, Tony’s still sore about being kept in the dark about Coulson’s not-dead status. Fitz takes a deep breath before spewing a defense. “Was getting on his knees and declaring his immense regret for never telling you he endured a terrible process involving alien blood and memory planting to be resurrected only to indirectly bring about the emergence of powers that have laid dormant in a stratum of humanity and being very busy dealing with all of that not enough?”

Tony looks unimpressed. Or that could be his default resting face. The goatee confuses things.

Fitz soldiers on. “He apologized with Captain America watching through a satellite link. _And_ he recorded it and sent the video to all of the Avengers. I know for a fact agents Barton and Romanoff have sent him scathing messages proclaiming their desire to ‘kill him for real’ and that no amount of ‘alien Red Bull’ will be able to bring him back.”

Tony seems to be pacified by that. “Has Phil ever talked about us?”

“Only every day.”

“Really?”

“Of course not,” Fitz says with an eye-roll. “He’s very busy directing things. But he really hated not telling you all sooner. Truly.”

“Excuse me, sir,” a voice from nowhere and yet everywhere speaks up. “Captain Rogers and Agent Barnes will be entering the room in less than a minute.”

“Thank you, Friday,” Tony says.

Fitz is strangely indignant at the voice because … “ _Irish accent_?” he whines.

Stark just smirks in response.

The door opens and Captain Rogers is first through the door. The wall of muscle dressed in red, white, and blue momentarily absorbs Fitz’s attention. Simply being aware of such a human being (or seeing his face on a giant screen smirking at the spectacle of Coulson apologizing to Stark) doesn’t prepare a person enough to actually be in his presence.

Captain Rogers takes note of Tony but seems to focus on Fitz with intensity. Wistful intensity, which sounds oxymoronic, but the captain is managing to do it.

The scrutiny makes Fitz awkwardly avert his eyes, and only then does he really look at the man who followed Captain Rogers. He’s slightly shorter but almost just as muscled. He’s the darkness to the captain’s light with his brown hair and black clothing, but somehow he’s looking at Fitz in the exact same way as Captain Rogers.

They seem fond of Fitz. And that doesn’t make sense because they’ve never met him.

Stark clears his throat, interrupting the surreal moment. “Fellas, I see you’ve taken interest in the small engineer I have enlisted for Project Red, White and Bucky. He’s cute, right?”

Fitz squawks. “Oi, I’m not that small.”

“He’s right,” the man in black says. “I’ve seen smaller.” He looks pointedly at the captain.

Rogers shrugs. “Yeah, sorry, Dr. Fitz. We, uh, yeah. You’re not that small really. At least, compared to how I was … before.” He looks down, bashful and apologetic, but still wistful.

“It’s just Fitz. Call me Fitz.”

“Where are my manners?” Tony asks. “Leopold Fitz, I know you recognize Captain Steven G. Rogers. Living legend. Secretly loves to bake. With him is Agent James Barnes. Better known as Bucky. Yes, Leopold. Two plus two equals _that_ Bucky Barnes. The why and how of his continued existence on earth and devilish good looks are classified.”

Fitz is in shock, to say the least, but makes a mental note to get some kind of DNA sample from Barnes to sneak off to Simmons. Maybe she could find the secret to looking young and hot in your 90s, and they’d make a fortune. (Would a hair sample be enough? No, it’s probably going to have to be saliva, at least. Could he pull off secretly swabbing a person’s mouth?)

Fitz is pulled from his fantasies of buying a monkey sanctuary with his possible fortune when he homes in on Barnes’ metal arm.

The attention doesn’t escape Stark. “Nuh-uh, young Padawan. I got dibs on the arm.”

Tony throws back up the hologram of the arm he was working on earlier. Fitz stops short (barely) of stomping on the ground like a toddler denied a toy at Walmart.

“You know, Stark, I am every bit the engineer you are. I just don’t have the corporation or the funds or –. By the way, do you happen to own a monkey sanctuary?”

Stark nods. “Yeah, two.”

Fitz does stomp on the ground at that.

“Okay, fellas,” Captain Rogers interrupts. “Please, can we get back to the reason we’re here.” He steps close to Fitz and places a hand on his shoulder. “Fitz, you’re here because Tony has the same amount of faith in your abilities as he has with his own. He admires your work and trusts you.”

“Cap’s right,” Tony says. “You could be like a son to me. Then again, maybe you _are_ my son. I did take a trip to Scotland 25 years ago, come to think of it.”

Fitz never knew his father, but he certainly hopes his mother would have said something if he was Tony Stark because, well, more money than _God_ ...

“Too bad I’m not old enough to be your dad.”

The three other men in the room collectively snort at the lie. Tony soldiers on.

“ _Anyway_ , I’m also too selfish to be a father. Suck it up, Fitz. The arm’s mine. The new design’s almost done.”

“Does it have a repulsor?” Fitz asks.

Stark looks thoroughly pleased. “See, Barnes!” he whines. “I told you!” He turns to Fitz. “Shit, maybe I do owe your mom child support.”

Barnes rolls his eyes. “No weapons in the arm, Tony.”

“It’s not exactly a weapon. It could just be … handy.” Stark, again, turns to Fitz. “See what I did there? Since a repulsor is installed in the _hand_.”

“Good Lord, you’re worse than Coulson.”

“ _Tony_ ,” Captain Rogers says as a warning.

“All right, all right. I’ll go and leave you two in Fitz’s small, repulsorless hands.”

Fitz’s eyes follow the man out the door. He’s going to have to have a serious chat with his mum about paternity testing when he gets the chance. He has a job to do first.

“Well, Agent Barnes, I’m here to get your heroic look sorted, I believe. Unless Captain Rogers is in the market for yet another uniform?”

The captain taps his chin as if he’s really considering the idea. “I was thinking about adding chainmail.”

Barnes snorts. “Ignore him,” he tells Fitz. “And ignore any ideas Stark might has given you about my uniform."

“Not a problem,” Fitz says. “Although I am curious why he’s calling your uniform ‘Project Red, White, and Bucky.’ ”

Captain Rogers rolls his eyes. “Tony wants Bucky’s uniform to basically look like mine.”

“Why?”

“He thinks it’ll be cute,” Barnes says, not hiding his disgust. “If Pepper’s Rescue suit is going to match his Iron Man suits, then I should match Steve’s Captain America outfit.”

Fitz starts processing that sentence. “Pepper Potts? CEO of Stark Industries? Is going to be an Avenger?”

“If we can ever get her; she’s so busy,” Rogers answers. “But boardroom or battlefield, she’s taken it upon herself to protect Tony in any way she can. She loves him.”

Fitz is so struck by the romance of it all, he gives a moment of silence to honor it. It’s still a bit puzzling though. “Why does it matter that you two match like they do? It’s not like you two are, uh …”

“Partners,” the captain finishes Fitz’s sentence.

Fitz nods carefully.

“We are partners, but not in the way Pepper and Tony are.” Captain Rogers looks down almost dejectedly. “Which makes Tony’s insistence on matching uniforms all so confusing.”

Fitz looks at Barnes to see confirmation of his newly formed suspicion. He looks annoyed and frustrated. Barnes knows exactly what Tony’s implying. (So does Captain Rogers, most likely.)

And so does Fitz. He is witness to the longest-running friends-to-lovers scenario in all of history. They put Simmons and him to shame.

“Excuse me, Captain Rogers?” Friday says. “Mr. Wilson would like your company on the roof to practice catching you.”

Barnes groans and rubs his forehead.

Captain Rogers sighs. “Tell him I’ll be up in 5.” He turns to Barnes. “You gonna be good here, Buck?”

“Yeah. I promise I won’t ask for snakeskin pants or anything. I’m gonna make your team look good, Rogers. Don’t worry.”

“Our team, Buck,” Captain Rogers corrects with fondness. “Take care of him, Fitz. I’ll see you two later.”

After the door closes behind him, Fitz swears he can hear Captain Rogers ask Friday to get the catapult ready.

Barnes keeps his eyes on the door for a few beats. “Hey, Fitz,” he says, still looking at the door. “I lied.”

Fitz frowns at that. “When? About what?”

“When I told you not to listen to Stark. I actually want you to do the whole matching outfits thing.”

“You want a uniform like Captain America’s?”

“Yeah. Well, wait, no. Not a copy of it, but something similar.”

Fitz dares to ask, “Could you be doing this as a way to silently declare certain feelings about Captain Rogers?”

Barnes finally side-eyes the engineer. “You’re smart. You do the math.”

Fitz doesn’t hold back his smile. “That’s quite good you know. It’s a really subtle way of telling him. And at least you’re not waiting for a life-or-death situation at the bottom of the ocean to finally get the courage to blurt out all of the feelings you’ve been bottling up since academy when she took your favorite pen and finished your theoretical equation for expanding multidimensional fields.”

Barnes’ eyebrows shoot up, then his face shifts into a look of sympathy. “True, I’m not doing this at the bottom of the ocean.” He seems to replay what he said and realize the enormity of what Fitz revealed. “Wait, the bottom of the _ocean_?!”

Fitz cringes. “It didn’t go well, to say the least.”

“Am I gonna get the rest of the story?”

“Depends. Do I get to hear yours?” Fitz counters.

Barnes gives him a cryptic smile. “No.”

Okay, not so cryptic.

Fitz tries a different tactic. “Just answer my most burning question. Just the one.”

Barnes nods his agreement.

“You’re right gorgeous and don’t look a day over 30. Do you not age or … something else?”

Barnes looks away and down. Fitz thinks he’s trying to school his emotions and is waiting for his face to catch up before responding. “Something else,” he answers, simply.

Fitz nods his thanks for even that little bit of information. “Well, enough of the awkward questions. Let’s get to work.” He gets out measuring tape. The kind grandmothers use.  

Barnes’ eyebrows quirk up. “I know for a fact I’ve been full-body scanned and that you already have all of my measurements down to the millimeter. So, why the granny tape?”

“Show a little respect for the traditional methods. Your uniform will not only be the result of my genius but also my artistry. This tape will help me get acquainted with the nuances of your body better than any numbers culled by a scanner ever will.”

Fitz was already moving toward him, but Barnes starts meeting him halfway. “I can think of even better ways for you to get acquainted with my body. And its nuances.”

Fitz almost drops the tape.

“Did you notice me staring at you, Fitz? When I first saw you?”

Fitz stares a bit owlishly, slightly nods a yes.

“Well, around these parts, the men all come in larger-than-life sizes. You’re not terribly small, but the difference is more noticeable here than other places.”

“Is there a compliment in there somewhere because I’m not quite swept off my feet by reminders of my incredibly average genetic makeup.”

Barnes gets even closer, and Fitz fights the urge to squeak.

“You’re the perfect size for me to wrap my arms around, to _literally_ sweep you off your feet, and hold you like the most precious person in existence.”

Okay, Fitz admits inside his head, that was really lovely to hear, but … “But Captain Rogers, his shoulders alone … I mean, I’m surprised the man can walk straight on through standard doorways.”

Barnes isn’t denying it. “Like he said, he used to be smaller. Steve was perfect.” He gets a far-off look for a moment, but refocuses on Fitz fairly quickly. “My feelings for him, they’re nothing new. So he’s bigger now. Just more to love.”

Fitz makes the decision then to honestly do right by this man. The uniform will be exactly what Barnes wants and needs, he will get his man because of it, and love will fucking win. Fitz will make sure of it.

But first Fitz can’t help but keep the flirting going just a bit longer. There is a very handsome man with a cool robot arm standing in close proximity to him. Fitz doesn’t waste opportunities like this.

“You know, Agent Barnes, this moment, with the lovey-dovey look on your face and the lack of space between us, is the perfect romantic movie cliché time for Captain Rogers to return to the room, see us and mistake the situation, and further complicate what otherwise should be a straightforward joining of soulmates.”

Barnes gives him a sinful smile. “He is bound to come back at any time. How about when you’re measuring me, you get more handsy than necessary and see if he interrupts us. His face looks exactly like a kicked puppy when he’s disappointed. No exaggeration.”

“You’re almost too much to resist, Agent Barnes,” Fitz admits, looking straight at his lips, “but I think Director Coulson would outright fire me and banish me to some unmapped island if I had any part in breaking Captain America’s heart.”

“Aww,” Barnes pouts in mock disappointment.

“Enough,” Fitz says, somewhat more to himself than to Barnes. “This uniform is never going to get made at this rate.” He steps back to give them space and unfurls the tape some. “So you said you want it to be like Captain Rogers’ uniform but not a copy?”

“Yeah, but beyond that, I don’t know what I’d really have it look like. The stars and stripes would have to stay, obviously. But I definitely don’t want any more than he has.”

“So we pull back on them,” Fitz reasons. He takes in the clothes Barnes has on at the moment. It’s the basic all-black S.H.I.E.L.D. suit. It’s functional and subtle. “Do you like black clothing or are you wearing this for lack of options?”

Barnes shrugs. “In the past, well, I’ve worked mostly in the shadows. Black’s the only choice. This superhero gig means I can loosen up a bit. I mean, just look at Hawkeye’s purple get-up. I used to wear blue back in the war. Nowadays, though, I can’t see giving up black completely.”

Fitz has been taking measurements while Barnes talked. “I have the perfect solution,” Fitz says.

“Would your inspiration have anything to do with what you’re currently measuring?”

What Fitz is currently measuring is the waist-to-crotch distance. He isn’t very subtle about getting his fill of looking since Barnes was so helpful to point out the area. “In all honesty,” Fitz says after he finally starts looking upward at Barnes’ face, “I am a little bit inspired by it. Yeah.”

Barnes doesn’t bother to hide his pride. He helps Fitz stand back up. “What d’ya got in mind?”

“You’ll get your black, you’ll get your stars and stripes, and everyone will love it, especially Captain Rogers. And you’ll owe me a swab of your saliva.”

Barnes squints in confusion. “Is that your way of saying a kiss?”

“Oh, I’ll definitely take that too,” Fitz smirks and jots down his plans, not bothering to clear up the man’s confusion.

-|-|-

“A crotch arrow.”

Barnes is looking in the mirror while Fitz makes his last checks for proper fit.

“It’s not a crotch arrow,” Fitz insists. “It’s not an arrow at all.”

“Fitz, I don’t care that it’s not shaped precisely like an arrow. I’ve basically got a giant triangle on my torso, and one of the points ends at my crotch.”

“You’re exaggerating. The point is well above your crotch, which is why I had to measure your waist-to-crotch area multiple times to ensure I got it right. I’m a professional, thank you very much. I didn’t appreciate you insinuating otherwise and going on and on about your sexual prowess while I was doing so.”

Barnes looks extremely skeptical but doesn’t push the matter any further. He continues to scrutinize himself in the mirror. “You think he’ll get it? What I’m trying to say to him with this?”

Fitz thinks Captain Rogers would be a fool if he didn’t notice the intentions of the striking man in red, white, blue, and black. “For a 98-year-old, you’re such a teenager,” Fitz teases. “You look fantastic. He’ll adore it.”

Captain Rogers and Stark choose that moment to come into the room. Barnes turns around instantly.

“Wow, Barnes. You clean up nice,” Stark says. “I see Mini Me did a great job. And you actually took my advice about matching.” He pauses and his eyes widen some with realization. “Wait, you actually did it.”

Barnes is deadly. Fitz doesn’t need to know the details of his past to know this almost instinctually after observing him. But right now, Bucky Barnes has the awkward stance of a wallflower at prom.

Captain Rogers on the other hand is dumbstruck. His eyes keep going up and down Barnes’ body, processing it all. “Buck …”

“What d’ya think?” Barnes asks. “Couldn’t exactly swipe your whole ‘Star Spangled Man’ schtick, but I thought adding some black would be a classy look I could settle for.”

Captain Rogers walks up to Barnes, right up to him, and places a hand on top of the star on his chest. “Yeah, Buck. You look real classy.” He takes in a deep, settling breath. “You look amazing.”

Barnes lightly shrugs. “Of course I do, punk, like I said --”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence because Captain Rogers starts kissing him senseless. Barnes seems to catch up quickly and brings the other man closer by wrapping his arms as much as he can around him.

Fitz gets a bit wistful at that. There was no real chance of him ever being the one wrapped in those arms, but it was nice to pretend while he could. He turns to walk out the door and give them privacy.

He drags a wolf-whistling Stark along with him.

-|-|-

“I officially declare Project Red, White, and Bucky a success,” Stark says.

“Absolutely,” Fitz says while pulling out from his satchel his phone and a clear-plastic zip bag with a cotton swab and a vial.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, payment,” Fitz answers. He taps his phone and waits for the call to pick up. “Hey, Jemma. Guess what? We’re going to be _bloody rich_.”

-end-


End file.
